


A Disaster of Diplomacy

by fraufi666



Category: Political RPF - Australian 20th-21st c., Political RPF - Chinese 20th c.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Politics, Communism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Foreplay, Humiliation, Light BDSM, M/M, Manipulation, Scandal, Self-Esteem Issues, Sex Tapes, South China Sea Dispute, Verbal Humiliation, foreign affairs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:36:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28832796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fraufi666/pseuds/fraufi666
Summary: An open, honest conversation with Premier Li Keqiang goes completely wrong. Desperate to retain his reputation as well as his position as Prime Minister, Malcolm Turnbull turns to a former rival for help. However, nothing in this situation is quite as it seems.
Relationships: Kevin Rudd/Malcolm Turnbull, Malcolm Turnbull/Lucy Turnbull
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is an AU. Although I have used real people and political figures this is entirely a work of fiction. All romantic encounters, events and insinuations are from my imagination. I mean no disrespect to any of the people depicted. I am also in no way politically biased.

_2016 East Asia Summit, Laos_   
  


“Tell me how you feel.”

Malcolm Turnbull was amazed by the way the Chinese Premier, Li Keqiang had spoken those words. Although a highly serious man, there was uncharacteristic warmth in his tone. These past hours of negotiating about the South China Sea seemed to go nowhere. China, as always was a boulder that was impossible to move, but now it seemed as if there was room for compromise after all. Furthermore, the wine they served was absolutely atrocious. Never, had he ever had wine that tasted so cheap and pungent. It would probably take hours for that aftertaste to wear off. He made sure to let Xi Jinping know, albeit subtly. It was important to master the art of diplomacy, especially where the Chinese were concerned.

“Really?” The Australian leader finally asked, as if the offer was too good to be true. For someone so shrewd at business, he could not take the words at face value. Often if something was too good to be true, it often was.

Li addressed him coolly through his frameless spectacles. “Of course, Prime Minister.” There was a hint of a smile on his stoic face as he gestured him to follow him. With some hesitation, Turnbull followed him down the corridor and then walked out to the balcony. The Premier gazed out at the verdant landscape before them, the air sticky with humidity that was typical of Laotian climate.

“Why me?” Turnbull asked, knowing full well that Li had not asked any of the other delegates to come out for this discussion. The humid air was practically stifling with the added pressure of an honest conversation.

Li chuckled slightly. “You’re the only one out of all these delegates that can tell the truth, Mr Turnbull. You have integrity. Our benevolent leader, Mao Zedong would have really liked you.”

Turnbull gave a modest laugh. “Well, I appreciate the positive endorsement, Mr Li. But you already know my stance on the South China Sea. I made everything crystal clear during the last few hours of our meeting.”

To Turnbull’s surprise, the Premier shook his head. “No, Mr Turnbull. You have only said what was _permissible_ to say in public. We are alone now. There is no need for talking points that you western leaders are so reliant upon.” His gaze flittered from the nearby hanging leaf to the bewildered politician. “ _Everything_ said out here is off the record. Just a few honest words between two friends.”

Something about the Chinese man’s words seemed to soothe his raging heart, and Turnbull softened. Even though they were so opposed ideologically, Li was just like any other world leader: He wanted a good outcome. And now, he had entrusted Turnbull, of all world leaders, to open up about his real thoughts of the South China Sea.

“Mr Li,” Turnbull started, resting his hands on the balcony, his back towards the scenery. “If you want me to be brutally honest, then I will. I hate what your country is doing to innocent fishermen as they pass through the South China Sea. Yes, you may own part of it, but shouldn’t that be enough? Why can’t the surrounding nations have a share of the pie, so to speak?”

“You want us to give up our territory?” Li asked brashly.

Turnbull chuckled, hoping this would soften the blow, “No no, Mr Li. That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m saying that you can _have_ part of the South China Sea…but just share. Isn’t sharing something that the Communist Party constantly preaches?”

Li’s jaw clenched, his dark eyes alert and watchful. Turnbull felt like an insect under his gaze. He tried to push the thought aside, knowing that honesty was what Li had asked for. “I know you are a man of integrity _too_ , Mr Li.” He continued, putting the pressure back on the Premier, “So why be a hypocrite to your own party’s ideologies?”

The dark eyes narrowed as the Premier considered Turnbull’s words. He turned back to the landscape. His hand gently brushed the air as he spoke.

“Take a look at all of this, Mr Turnbull. Vietiane used to be nothing but jungle, but even with a socialist government, it has turned into a paradise that rivals tourist cities of the West. We are perfectly capable of working for success without the watchdog of democracy nipping at our heels.” He turned back to the Prime Minister, a slight smirk on his face. “I know you westerners believe that you know everything there is to know about us, but you have to be very, very careful…or you might embarrass yourself.”

Turnbull gasped, slightly offended at the other man’s blunt words. “I have you know that I studied at Oxford, the world’s leading education institute.” He raised a finger, refusing to back down from a fight, now that his feathers were ruffled, “Without our liberal democratic ideology, the east would not prosper as much as it has now. After all, your very own Deng Xiaoping adopted capitalism and now China is a leading economic superpower.”

Li chuckled. “Yes, I guess that _is_ something we have gained from the West. But Mr Turnbull, even though you westerners are used to ruling the entire world, your time has well and truly past. This is _our_ chance to rise and become successful. You cannot have your own way every single time. And you certainly cannot turn our neighbouring nations against us for your own gain.”

Too riled up to think rationally, Turnbull took a step closer. Being only slightly taller than the Chinese politician, they were staring directly in each other’s eyes.

“If you think you can divide and conquer in order to rise, the rest of the world will stop you.” Turnbull hissed menacingly, “After all, there is only one of you, whilst many other nations have turned to the West for counsel.”

There was a tense silence between the two men, their eyes still latched on to one another. Li’s face darkened, and in a split second, Turnbull was sure he was going to strike him. But the Chinese man simply smiled.

He felt a light pat on his back. “Oh Mr Turnbull. See, _this_ is why I like you. Your openness and honesty.” Turnbull chuckled nervously, startled by the sudden change in the other man’s demeanour.

Li turned towards the door, about to head back indoors. “I’ll have a think over our discussion and get back to you, Mr Turnbull. You have a nice evening. Tell Lucy I send my regards.”

Turnbull walked up towards the Premier, holding a hand out. Given the cordial nature of the other man, he was certain that there was a change of heart. He felt his pride soar. This was progress, almost as significant as Nixon’s watershed meeting with Mao Zedong.

“I appreciate jousting with you, Mr Li. It has been an honour.”

Li took his hand and there was a firm, but quick handshake. As Turnbull began to collect his thoughts, he realised he was standing alone on the balcony.


	2. Chapter 2

When Turnbull had arrived back to the hotel, he was stopped by a young concierge.

“Sir…this was left for you.” The concierge said meekly, handing a wine bottle to Turnbull. Attached around the neck was a small card. 

“Thank you.” He responded in surprise, opening the card instantly. The message was written in neat, elegant writing.

_I thought you would appreciate a good drop._

_Regards, Xi._

It was a short message, but there was so much packed in those two sentences. The fact that the Chinese understood how poor the wine was, made Turnbull realise that his diplomacy skills did work well after all.

_Look out Henry Kissinger!_ He thought in amusement as he made his way up to his hotel room. With any luck, he might end up being appointed as UN Secretary General at the end of his term…whenever that would be. Given his talents in international affairs, he was sure that the Australian people would want him to remain in office indefinitely.

Once he got back to his room, he slumped onto the couch, exhausted after such a long day. Lucy was sitting at her laptop, no doubt getting involved in something to do with local council. He always admired her for her solid work ethic.

“How did it go?” Lucy asked, looking up briefly from the screen, her fingers still dancing over the keyboard.

Turnbull patted the seat next to him, to which she stood up instantly and went to sit down beside him. She spotted the bottle of wine in his hands. The gleaming letters of _Château d'Yquem 1856_ flashed back at her. _*_

 _“_ How did you get this?” She gasped, recognising this to be one of the most expensive wines in the world. This was probably more expensive than anything they already owned in their Point Piper wine cellar.

“Darling, this bottle is testament to my strong diplomacy skills.” Turnbull smirked, draping an arm around her shoulders while she examined the bottle closely. He leaned in to kiss her tenderly on the cheek. “I think I’ve done it. I’ve actually made the Chinese back down on the South China Sea dispute! Xi’s quaking in his boots now, hence why he bought me that expensive bottle.”

“Oh Malcolm, I always knew you could do it.” Lucy purred, putting the bottle down onto the coffee table before pulling him into her arms. “You have always been such a wonderful diplomat.”

“But behind every great man…is a great woman…” Turnbull murmured, leaning in. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Oh don’t be silly, of course you could have.” Lucy chided, taking his head into her hands. She kissed him gently on the lips at first, but Turnbull ended up pushing her onto the couch as he climbed on top of her, kissing her with more passion. He could feel the First Lady’s hands trace towards his belly, before unzipping his trousers to release his hardened member. The success of today was all so arousing, and there was no way he could stop himself. He moaned as she began to fondle him, knowing exactly where all his points of pleasure were.

Instantly, he reached up under her skirt, yanking off her panties and tossing them aside before running his fingers against her moistened clit. He could feel her trembling beneath him, but she did not stop her motions on him. Whenever they had sex, it often felt like a battle for dominance, and the thought turned him on. As she continued to give his cock a few more pumps, he inserted three fingers into her, enjoying the way she gasped with each penetration.

Without another moment, the Prime Minister made his way into her, gasping as he was welcomed into the warmth of her embrace. It was so familiar that the act felt like second nature to them. They continued to kiss roughly, well-tailored jackets pressed up together and getting increasingly creased with every thrust.

“Oh Lucy…” Turnbull moaned, as he felt his wife’s hands trace against his chest. She quickly unbuttoned his shirt, pinching his nipples cheekily. “I love you so much.”

“Enough chit chat …” Lucy panted, her legs pulling him in closer as he clumsily unbuttoned her blouse, “I need you to work your diplomacy skills on me like the way Kissinger did to his opponents.”

Knowing that he only ever wanted to prove her right, he began to quicken his thrusts, causing her to cry in pleasure. As he leaned in close, she continued to toy with his nipples, kissing him with so much ferocity that he knew that he had done his job.

But one climax was not enough. The two stripped off their clothes before climbing onto the bed, continuing their passionate battle for a couple more hours.   
  


Unbeknownst to the couple, a small, red light blinked in the darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

Turnbull woke up with a start. The bed was empty and he could hear running water from the bathroom. He smiled to himself, for he knew he was going to join her in a minute. Just as he was sitting up in the bed, his eye caught a glimpse of a flashing red light.

Bewildered, Turnbull got up. Donning on his dressing gown, he edged closer to the flashing light, curious as to what it was. It seemed to be coming from the mirror of the wardrobe. Pushing aside the sliding door, he gasped as he spotted a camera that was perched surreptitiously between some of the linen.

Filled with anger and shock, he grabbed the camera, yanking it out of its spot. The wires snapped. He dropped the camera to the floor, his hand shaking. He remembered the threatening words of Premier Li.

_I know you westerners believe that you know everything there is to know about us, but you have to be very, very careful…or you might embarrass yourself._

It was all a trap. The friendly joust and the bottle of wine were merely calculated gestures to give the illusion that Turnbull had nothing to fear, that he really _had_ succeeded in the negotiations. But the only thing he had succeeded in doing was losing his own dignity.

Frantically, Turnbull raced over to the bedside table and picked up his phone. There was only one person that could help him out of this. Someone whose diplomacy skills with the Chinese had succeeded his own, as much as he hated to admit it. His feelings for this person had always been conflicted, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

With some hesitation, he hit the call button and held the phone to his ear gingerly.

“Hello?” Kevin Rudd asked tiredly.

“Kevin…it’s me. I need your help.” Turnbull pressed urgently. He kept an eye out as he heard the shower turn off, hoping that Lucy would not hear their tense conversation.

“Malcolm?” The former Labor leader asked in disbelief. “What is the meaning of this? It’s five ‘o clock in the morning!”

“I’m sorry, Kev…but it’s urgent. I’ve been rat-fucked by the Chinese!”

“What?!” Rudd asked in confusion. “I must be dreaming…” He muttered to himself in resignation and for a moment it sounded as if he was going to hang up and go back to sleep.

“No, please don’t hang up!” Turnbull begged, “I desperately need your help. There’s no one else who can help me! Please…you are the only one who really has a way with the Chinese.”

“Oh so you need _my_ help now?” Rudd asked with a tone of slight irritation, “See, it’s funny that you do, considering how you blocked my appeal for being UN Secretary General.”

“That-that wasn’t me.” Turnbull denied frantically. “Please, you have no idea how high the stakes are here! They could come after me…my wife…my job…it would be an international crisis!”

“Lucy doesn’t know…does she?” Rudd asked mischievously. There was some satisfaction in knowing that his political rival was now dealing in what could blow up as a major scandal.

“What do you think?! I can’t let her find out that the Chinese screwed me over. She already thinks I am a diplomatic genius!”

“For Christ sakes….” Rudd muttered, getting fed up by the Prime Minister’s temperamental behaviour. “Alright, I’ll try and help you. You’re still in Laos, right?”

“Yes. Staying at the Settha Palace. Please, hurry!”  
  


The line went dead.


	4. Chapter 4

By late afternoon, Rudd had finally arrived at the lobby of the hotel. Fortunately, Lucy had gone out for the day for some sightseeing, allowing Turnbull the privacy he needed to speak to him. Turnbull gazed at the former Labor leader in admiration. He could not have been more pleased to see him.

“So glad you can make it.” Turnbull said, holding out a hand for a handshake. Rudd ignored the gesture.

“Spare me the pleasantries and take me to your room.” Rudd replied coldly, “We can’t allow any of this discussion to be overheard by the staff here.”

“But that’s the thing!” Turnbull cried, “They have a camera in the room too!”

Rudd exhaled in frustration. “Why didn’t you say so before? The whole place might be bugged, you fool!” He turned away in irritation towards the exit and began to make his way to leave.

Turnbull walked hastily behind him, managing to catch up to him. They were already walking out of the doors of the hotel and down the pavement. “Please don’t go. I need your help. There’s no telling how much of that video they caught…Lucy and I…oh god, _both_ of our careers would be in jeopardy.”

Rudd spun around, “Well what’s in it for me?”

“Anything you want.” Turnbull insisted. “Just name your price.”

Rudd scoffed. “All you Liberals are the same…always after money. I don’t _care_ for the money, Malcolm.”

The Prime Minister’s heart was racing so fast; it felt as if it was going to burst out of his chest.

“Then I’ll do whatever it is that you ask for, Kevin. You have my word. Just please, help me out of this situation!”

The cold bespectacled gaze of the former politician turned towards him. “ _Anything_ , you say?” He asked inquisitively, smirking at the flustered expression of the Prime Minister. “You can start by booking for a hotel far from here.”

“Oh, of course.” Turnbull said, taking out his phone from his pocket. “I know some of the best deals! I can pay for your accommodation…it’s the least I can do.”

There was a sly smile on the former politician’s face as Turnbull rang up and made the arrangements for a room for Rudd. With luck, there was a room available…the presidential suite in fact, and he knew that that would be more than enough for him.

Once the room was arranged, both men made their way to the hotel. He did not mind that he had to pay hundreds of dollars for the room: it was a pretty reasonable deal considering what he was expecting from Rudd. But as they made their way inside the room, Turnbull felt two hands grab his shoulders as Rudd pushed him up against the wall.

“K-Kevin….what are you-“ Turnbull stammered, before he was cut off by a kiss as the former Labor leader pulled him in. He crumbled instantly to the sensation, his hands grasping at the other man’s fair strands, kissing him back with equally the same amount of passion. Rudd quickly undid the Liberal politician’s tie, the motion only exciting Turnbull further.

Suddenly, Rudd’s hand cupped against his face, stopping him from kissing him any further. Turnbull felt slightly cheated.

“Now hold on, Malcolm…I haven’t told you what I expect you to do for me.” Rudd chided, as if a teacher scolding his pupil.

“What is it? I said I’d do anything…I’d do anything for you, Kev.” Turnbull insisted, his blue eyes shining.

“Get on your knees.” Rudd ordered. “Now!”

Like an obedient lapdog, Turnbull collapsed to his knees in an instant. He watched the former politician unzip his trousers, releasing his erection. The Prime Minister gasped at the size, feeling himself harden as a result. For a moment, he was so dazed, that all he could do was stare. Rudd grabbed hold of both of Turnbull’s wrists, before tying them together tightly with the tie. Turnbull could only sit and watch, paralysed by the dominating influence the other man had on him.

In an instant, he felt Rudd’s hand grab hold of his hair, pulling him close so that his lips were on his cock. He took him in his mouth, first caressing the tip with his tongue before moving down the shaft. Rudd let out a grunt, but he was still not satisfied.

“More…” He demanded, breathing heavily.

Turnbull slowly began to run his tongue around the other man’s cock in circular motions, gradually picking up the speed. He could hear the other man’s breathing become more haggard with each moment. Rudd clenched his fist, the other hand still in Turnbull’s thinning hair, tugging against the strands that the other cried out in pain.

“Don’t be such a baby.” Rudd panted. “I…I want you to show me you can do more with that silver tongue of yours, Prime Minister.”

Hesitantly, Turnbull took him in further, gasping slightly at the girth as he tried not to gag. Rudd’s eyes rolled into the back of his head.

“Deeper…” Rudd moaned, pushing Turnbull’s head closer to him.

He was almost close, until he began to gag. Turnbull jerked his head back, coughing.

“You’ll have to do better than that.” Rudd sighed. “Take off your pants.”

With some difficulty due to his wrists being bound together, Turnbull fumbled at his belt, trying to remove it. Getting impatient, Rudd knelt down, undoing his pants for him, before yanking them off in an instant.

Trousers down to his ankles, Turnbull arched his back, closing his eyes as he felt the other man grab his waist, before making his way into him. A moan escaped his lips as he felt his former rival’s length inside him.

“How does it feel, having Labor cock into you, hmm?” Rudd murmured, his hot breath against the back of the Prime Minister’s neck. He chuckled as he felt the other man tremble, “Fancy you going out to see the Chinese, expecting them to listen to you and pander to your very needs, only to then fall for their plot, hook, line and sinker.”

He gave him a few hard thrusts, causing Turnbull to moan ever louder. Rudd gripped his hair, pulling his head back towards him. “…You pathetic excuse for a Prime Minister.”

Turnbull felt his pride shatter with each cruel word that came out of that man’s mouth. It was tempting to shout back at him, to let him know that he would not stand for whatever nonsense his rival was saying…but he could not. Truth be told, he was at his mercy. He _needed_ him, more than anything. And as he felt Rudd pound him with each aching, but pleasurable moment, he realised he wanted so desperately to satisfy him, too. If he could be his punching bag, then so be it.

“I…I’d do anything for you, Kev.” Turnbull wailed, closing his eyes as tears rolled down his face, his wrists aching from the tightness of the tie. He felt so small and pathetic, so needy and dependent on something that he knew he could not have. As Rudd continued to sway his hips, he felt himself give in to the pleasure. Turnbull cried out as he felt Rudd come into him, a series of shuddering breaths against his back.

Rudd disentangled himself from Turnbull, zipping up his trousers as a matter of fact. With shaky knees, Turnbull stood up, holding out his wrists for him to untie.

“I’m sure you are perfectly capable of managing that.” Rudd remarked coldly. “If you would excuse me for a moment…I must freshen up for my meeting with the Chinese.”

He turned and walked towards the bathroom.

With a few awkward attempts, Turnbull managed to free himself from the tie with his teeth. It was so creased, he realised he would need to go back to his hotel room to change. But he remembered that there still might be more cameras in the room that he was unaware of. This was a much safer place. Given the events from a few moments before, he was also hoping for something more.

“K-Kevin…” Turnbull called out, almost tripping over his trousers as he limped towards the bathroom.

The bathroom door opened. Rudd was only wearing a towel. He gazed at the Prime Minister impassively. “Yes?”

“These clothes are really badly creased…would it be an inconvenience to…to freshen up here?”

A hand touched Turnbull gently on the shoulder, and for a moment his eyes softened. He could hear his heart thudding in his ears as he felt the other man draw close towards him.

“I don’t think so, Malcolm.” Rudd responded, disappointing him instantly. His hand slipped off his shoulder, the one last reassuring gesture he would receive from him for a long time. “You can see yourself out.”

Feeling dirty and dejected, Turnbull did up his trousers and slowly walked out of the room that he paid. He tried to push the thoughts of Rudd out of his head as he made his way back to his hotel room. For now, there was a much bigger task at hand.


	5. Chapter 5

Two hours later and Turnbull and Rudd were back in the venue for the summit. The Prime Minister tried to remain calm, although there were so many emotions bubbling towards the surface. As he saw Premier Li walk towards them, he had to use a considerable amount of self-control to keep himself from punching him in the face. That small smile and the thin spectacles were enough to set him on edge.

“Mr Turnbull, what a surprise.” Li said, although his expression appeared nonchalant. Dark eyes flitted towards Rudd. “And I didn’t expect to see you, here…Mr Kevin Rudd. Ni Hao Ma?”

The former Labor leader smiled, responding back to the Premier in Mandarin. The two chuckled heartily, as if Rudd had made a joke. Turnbull felt embarrassed that he was so eloquent, so confident in a language that he was still struggling to understand. Even though he was one of the most powerful people in the world, he felt so left out and insignificant watching this exchange.

“And, Mr Li…” Rudd went on, reverting back to English, “I have some business to discuss with you…business concerning my… _friend_ here.”

Turnbull looked up at Rudd in shock. _Friend?!_ Despite all they had been through together, he was only enough to be called a friend? Rudd looked blankly at the Australian politician before continuing.

“It would be wise if I see you, Premier Li…alone.”

“Certainly, Mr Rudd.” Li complied. “It just so happens that the staff have prepared some tea. Come right this way.”

He began to walk towards a door at the corner of the room. Both of the Australians followed him. But as Turnbull finally reached the door, Rudd blocked his path. Turnbull’s eyes widened in outrage.

“I think it is best you don’t join us, Malcolm. Conflict of interest and all of that.” Rudd explained coolly, looking down on him. “As Prime Minister, I’m sure you’d understand.”

“Kevin, I _must_ be a part of these discussions.” Turnbull insisted urgently, “I need to know why they filmed me!”

Rudd frowned. He leaned in close and to Turnbull’s surprise, he could feel his hand clutching his wrist firmly. For a split second, his mind drifted back to Rudd’s hotel room, when he had to please him whilst his wrists were bound. The intimacy of this present scenario was both arousing and terrifying.

“The reason why you’re in this mess in the first place, is because you were left to negotiate with Li. As you were _so_ desperate for my help before, I suggest you do as you’re told.” He winched as the other man’s nails dug into his wrist, but it only lasted for a second. Turnbull gazed into his former rival’s eyes longingly, hoping to catch some sort of compassion.

But Rudd turned on his heel, leaving Turnbull alone.

Rubbing his sore wrist, Turnbull paced around the room in angst. He pressed an ear against the door, hoping to catch some of the discussion. But there was no point. Even if he could hear them, they would no doubt be speaking in Mandarin. He made a mental note to install the _Duolingo_ App on his phone so he could brush up on his own Mandarin skills.

He sat down on one of the couches, trying to get comfortable as he waited for Rudd to return. The talk seemed to go on for an eternity and he could not help but be paranoid that Rudd might have said something unfavourable about him. But would he _really_ do that? Such an act would be treasonous after all. Crossing one leg over the other, he tried to process everything that had just occurred. The confronting, yet seemingly cordial discussion with Li, to the humiliating but enjoyable experience with Rudd in the hotel room…Why was it that Rudd continually undermined him? He could strangle him for being so aloof and arrogant, treating the whole situation like it was something that _he_ could handle, yet he knew deep down that nobody else would be better able to solve this. Rudd was arrogant because he knew everything. He was confident in his knowledge, his diplomacy skills and his strong grasp of Mandarin. He did not need to pretend to know everything, and it incensed Turnbull to know that he was naturally gifted. All those years of schmoozing and improvising may have led him to becoming Prime Minister, but Turnbull knew, more than anything, that he could never have what it took to be as confident and as intelligent as Rudd.

He closed his eyes briefly, the exhaustion of the whole situation finally catching up to him. Everything about Rudd was always unattainable…his intelligence, his confidence and his heart. He felt relief in knowing that at least Rudd would never be able to outshine him without the position of Secretary General.

_One day,_ Turnbull hoped, _One day he’ll finally be impressed by what I have to offer…_


	6. Chapter 6

To his relief, the door opened and Rudd emerged, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

“It’s done.” He said shortly.

Turnbull scrambled to his feet, excited and anxious to know what went on during that discussion. “What did you tell them?” He asked desperately, peering at the former Prime Minister. Rudd’s expression remained unfathomable. Turnbull’s mind immediately went to the worst-case scenario. Rudd did have a temper, after all.  
  
“Please don’t tell me you punched the Premier like you punched the negotiator at Copenhagen?*”

There was a hint of a smile and Rudd shook his head. 

“I said ‘If the sex tape is all you have…feel free to release it.’”

Turnbull felt himself break out into a cold sweat. Unable to remain calm anymore, he grabbed hold of the other man’s arm, “Kevin, WHAT?!”

There was a slight smile on that impassive face, before he began to chuckle. Turnbull’s eyes widened, his features contorted in a mix of bewilderment and anger.

“I’m just kidding, Malcolm. Take it easy.” Rudd said eventually.

The Prime Minister breathed a sigh of relief.

“I just told him that there was no point of releasing the tape, for it would simply strain Sino-Australian relations further.”

Turnbull beamed, the characteristic twinkle in those blue eyes returning. “I knew they couldn’t follow it through. After all, there is no way they’d _ever_ want to cross me.”

A hand patted Turnbull on the back and he felt his cheeks flush at the contact. “No. Nobody would ever get on your bad side, Malcolm.” Rudd replied, his voice warm, yet sincere.  
  
  
It seemed that perhaps Rudd finally respected him after all.

**Epilogue**

_“Your Prime Minister is ignorant, Mr Rudd.” Li said, his back towards the former politician as he gazed out of the window. “He acts like he knows everything and throws a tantrum like a spoilt child when he does not get things his way. He is everything we despise about the West.”_

_Rudd took a sip of the ginseng tea before continuing. “That’s why I don’t think it is wise to play into his ego.”_

_“What do you mean?” Li asked, “This footage would surely cause him to lose face. To us, that is the greatest dishonour of all.”_

_“Yes, but do you remember what happened to me back when I was Prime Minister?”_

_Li’s eyebrows rose in surprise as he turned back towards him. “Please, enlighten me.” He strode over to the table to pour more tea into Rudd’s teacup, before pouring himself some. Teacup in hand, the Premier sat down, blowing gently over the steam._

_“Back in 2007, the media caught me going to a New York strip club.* As you know, the Murdoch media tried their best to get whatever dirt they can on me. Anyway, contrary to what they thought, the visit ended up causing my popularity to skyrocket. How else do you think I became Prime Minister twice?” He took another sip of the tea, before pushing back his spectacles as they were slipping down his nose. “Premier Li…do we really want another term of the Turnbull Government?”_

_Li frowned. “I didn’t think of that.” He admitted._

_Rudd smiled. “Trust me on this, Premier. If Turnbull wants to lose the Prime Ministership, he will do it all on his own. Neither fortunes nor flowers…”_

_“…Last forever…”* Li finished, also grinning. “You’re right, Kevin. There is no need for the video to be leaked.” He smirked, handing over what appeared to be a broken camera. Rudd took it from his hands, looking quite confused as he inspected it closely._

_“Wait a second…this isn’t-”  
  
“It’s a decoy.” Li replied. “There is no video here. I merely put a fake camera in to trick Turnbull and make him think twice about pressuring us. See the flashing light? Just an LED to look like it is recording. There’s really nothing there…But of course for someone who claims to know everything about technology, it did amaze me that he didn’t even notice this.” _

_“Is it worth me telling him?” Rudd asked, although he knew there would be no point anyway._

_“No. This is a chance for you to be a hero, Kevin. Make the most of this opportunity. He’ll be indebted to you forever.”_

_A sly grin spread across his face. Now that he had done a tremendous favour for Turnbull, he was pretty much at his disposal. A disaster of diplomacy for the Prime Minister had in fact led Rudd to a door of opportunities. For someone who appeared to be so strong and sure of himself, Turnbull was really insecure and hoping for validation from others much better than him. This was going to be his undoing, Rudd was sure of it.  
  
_ _  
“Thank you, Premier. I will keep this in mind.”_

**Author's Note:**

> *Footnotes for explanations:
> 
> “The gleaming letters of Château d'Yquem 1856 flashed back at her”: This is a reference to the wine that Alex Turnbull later on sculls during a family event in an earlier fic. A friend suggested this story to be the origin of this wine, and it seemed to fit quite well. 
> 
> “Please don’t tell me you punched the Premier like you punched the negotiator at Copenhagen?”: This is a reference to an article written about Kevin Rudd having to be held back from punching a negotiator in the 2009 Copenhagen talks. You can read about it in the link below.
> 
> https://www.facebook.com/MrKRudd/photos/pcb.10159667381807269/10159667379822269/ 
> 
> “Back in 2007, the media caught me going to a New York strip club.”: This is based on a true event. While this had happened while he was Opposition Leader, the widespread coverage of this event did indeed help with his popularity when running for Prime Minister. 
> 
> “Neither fortunes nor flowers last forever”: I felt it was necessary to bring in an Ancient Chinese proverb in this fic somehow to allude to Malcolm Turnbull’s inevitable demise. 
> 
> Translation key:
> 
> Ni Hao Ma: Basically a formal way of asking how someone is.


End file.
